Third Time's a Charm
by Dot
Summary: Arthur and Curt meet up by chance after the end of the movie. Minimal slash, but it is Velvet Goldmine, so for lack of a better word, duh.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own Velvet Goldmine, Arthur, Curt and Mandy belong to Todd Haynes, but I'd gladly trade him anything for Curt. Sadly enough, I don't think he'll go for it. Darn. Please R+R.   
  
When Curt had said "See you around", Arthur never actually expected to. New York was a big place, too large to merely run into someone, even if you had thought of that person every day since 1975. That night in the bar, Arthur had seen Curt's hesitation and had wanted to ask him to stay, wanted to ask him his favorite movie or song, just like Curt had done so many years before. Anything to keep him there, anything to keep him from walking out that door and out of his life for the second time.   
  
But he'd settled on "Cheers" and that had seemed a good choice at the time.   
  
Now, however, was a different story.   
  
It seemed almost impossible, with the thousands upon thousands of people that rode the subway from 44th to 2nd everyday, that Arthur would see him, a face in the crowd, one he could never forget. Something clinched up inside of him at the sight of Curt's white-blond hair and his fingers went immediately to the pin that was fastened onto his collar.   
  
Arthur pushed through the crowd, unwilling to lose him, but having no idea what to say. Curt headed for the men's room, so Arthur followed, the pounding in his chest louder than screeching of the subway train.   
  
Curt was washing his hands when Arthur entered the room. He looked up as the reporter approached and did something that Arthur didn't expect- he smiled. "Hey."  
  
Arthur nodded and replied, "Hi." He couldn't think of anything better to say, so he blurted, "Do you remember me?"  
  
Curt grinned. "You think I forgot?"   
  
For a moment, a single instant, Arthur was alive. The constraints of his job, of society, no longer existed. Curt remembered, and that was all that mattered. He *remembered*.   
  
Then Curt grabbed a paper towel and continued, "After all, I only met you in the bar last week and my memory isn't *that* bad."   
  
Arthur had to fight not to let disappointment show in his face. He forced himself to laugh.  
  
Curt threw the towel away. "I looked for your article. Didn't see it."  
  
"That's because it didn't get printed. Tommy Stone has some friends in high places. Friends that really don't want people finding out who he really is."   
  
A sardonic laugh escaped Curt's lips. "Don't you mean what?"  
  
Arthur swallowed hard. "I, uh, wanted to thank you. For the pin."   
  
Curt nodded. "Yeah, well, I'm glad you didn't choke on it," he replied, cracking a smile.   
  
Arthur nodded. "So… I guess I'd better be going," he said, while his heart screamed, *No, no, don't let him get away again!*.   
  
"I guess so," Curt replied. As Arthur turned away, he said quickly, "There's a concert tonight. Down at Mandy's club. I'm playing, if you… y'know, want to come."  
  
Arthur turned back. "Yeah, that sounds good. Uh… What time?"  
  
"Nine," Curt replied, brushing past Arthur and reaching the door before him. "See you then."  
  
Arthur nodded. "Cheers." As the door shut behind Curt, Arthur slammed a hand to his forehead. "Do I even know any bloody other words than 'cheers'?" 


	2. Chapter Two

A/N: Does anyone know the name of the club where Arthur interviewed Mandy? I can't remember. Please tell me in a review if you do! Thanks  
  
  
Mandy's club was crowded. Apparently there were more refugees from glam rock living in New York than Arthur knew. Or perhaps it was just Curt that drew them there, with his magnetic stare and mesmerizing music.   
  
Mandy herself stood at the bar, a drink in her hand. She looked more like the Mandy he recognized from the old days, hair curled lightly and make-up applied. He approached the bar slowly, leaned against it next to Mandy and ordered Scotch on the rocks, like he'd had the other day. Mandy looked over at him. "You're that journalist."   
  
"Arthur Stuart," he replied.   
  
She dismissed his name as insignificant and continued. "Back for more copy?"  
  
"No. I'm here for the concert."  
  
"Really? I didn't know you were a fan."  
  
Arthur stared down into his drink. "A long time ago."   
  
She accepted his answer. After a few moments of silence, she murmured, "You know what today is." Arthur nodded tersely. It hadn't escaped him that it was the tenth anniversary of Maxwell Demon's apparent demise. "It's always been hard on him. He and Brian… It wasn't just the fall of his lover. It was the death of their dreams." She was silent for a moment. "I think it helps him to play. Releases something."   
  
Arthur understood. If there was anything he knew about, it was the death of dreams too wonderful to come true. Looking away from Mandy, he focused on the group onstage. They reminded him of the Flaming Creatures, and for the first time in a while, he wondered what had happened to his old roommates.   
  
Their song ended while Arthur was still caught up in his thoughts and if Mandy hadn't nudged him, there was a good possibility that he wouldn't have looked up for a while. He was glad he did.  
  
Curt moved across stage. He was in tight leather pants- in Arthur's mind he wouldn't have been Curt Wild without them- and they looked as good on him as they had ten years before. His hair was down, alternately pink and blue and green, depending on the whim of the stage lights. He was shirtless- which was also his trademark, it seemed. His body was still sculpted, fit. The years hadn't touched him.  
  
The only other time Arthur had seen him perform was at the Death of Glitter concert. He had been raw then, full of despair and unchecked rage. He'd poured it into his song, giving it all he got. And in return he got applause and adoration, but not one person that understood him.   
  
This time it was different. There was no rage in his eyes, a surprising lack of despair, considering the date. Instead there was a warm glow in there, and Arthur would have done anything to know what caused it.   
  
The music started. It was passionate and loud, that hadn't changed. Curt's voice rolled over him, rich and full, and Arthur was seventeen again, watching his idol, awed and inspired. 


	3. Chapter Three

A/N: Ah, the end. I actually finished something! Yea, me! Please R+R.  
  
Perhaps it was instinct that led Arthur up to the roof after the concert. Perhaps it was just nostalgia. But he knew he would find Curt up there, just as he had nine years before.   
  
Curt was sitting on the wall that ran around the edge of the roof, legs dangling over. He was smoking a cigarette, calmly watching the smoke fade into the inky night sky.   
  
Arthur's voice broke through the silence. "That was beautiful."  
  
Curt didn't turn. "I wrote it nine years ago," he said, flicking his cigarette away, sending sparks through the sky. He watched them, then continued when they had disappeared. "On a rooftop in London. It was a lot like this one, actually."   
  
His voice was so soft, Arthur was sure he'd heard him wrong. He swallowed hard. "How's that?"  
  
Curt did turn then, the warm glow in his eyes again. Maybe it had never left. "You're here." At Arthur's stunned expression, Curt smiled and hopped down from the wall. "Did you think I forgot?"  
  
His mind was reeling. Curt remembered. Hope blossomed in his chest, a warmth spreading through his body. It was all he could do to choke out, "Well… Yeah."   
  
Curt moved toward Arthur slowly, stopping when he was close enough to touch him. "How could I forget you? You saved me that night."   
  
"I'd save you every night," Arthur murmured.   
  
Curt reached out to caress his face, running a calloused finger over Arthur's soft lips. He looked up to the sky, to a star streaking across, lighting the blackness, then back into Arthur's eyes. "Make a wish."  
  
Arthur closed his eyes as Curt leaned in. He didn't have to make a wish; he already had everything he wanted. 


End file.
